Computer generated wizardry such as "The Lord of the Rings" the Harry Potter series, Star Wars, etc. leave me cold because instead of Charlton Heston urging literally a cast of thousands to cross with him the parted waters, we have a cast of millions generated by computer which look so fakey that make me laugh. (It must be hard for a modern actor to look into a green wall and pretend he is seeing an army of invaders or something!)
But the worst purveyors of nonsense in modern films are those directors and writers that try to jerk a tear from our eye (hence, tear-jerkers). These are the type of films that try to evoke or provoke emotion by having a (child, dog, aged mother, favorite pet monkey, or lovable old coot) die of (an incurable disease, a car accident, medical negligence, a meteor shower or other ridiculous circumstance).
Now, I do confess that I have never been very susceptible to horror films, suspense flicks, or tear-jerkers. I was once escorted out of a movie theater because I couldn't stop laughing at Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds". I thought that those birds pecking at the running kids was the most hilarious thing I had ever seen and people got annoyed at my loud laughter (of course I was 14 and I was a rowdy teenager).
And, I was also asked to leave (this time by my own friends) when I cheered for the monsters and skeletons in that marvelous classic "Jason and the Argonauts".
Nevertheless, when a tear-jerker is well written, the acting good, and the direction impeccable, I find it hard to keep the waterworks from starting to drip. (I often wonder at why some of these women who go to see these movies and who go through a box of tissues in the theater do not succumb to dehydration.)
My favorite tear-jerker of all time is "An Affair to Remember" with Cary Grant and Doborah Kerr.
How can one avoid a tear when Cary Grant finally figures out that Deborah did not show up for their rendezvous because she was crippled in an accident? Oh, I get misty just thinking about it.
All of this is to comment that we went to see a modern tear-jerker last night. It tried valiantly to combine all of the elements of old films, including the fact that it was in black and white and there was no dialog (except at the end). I am talking about "The Artist", a french film that has been getting rave reviews even from crusty old film critics such as Anthony Lane in "The New Yorker".
The film had all of the elements in place: good acting (Dujardin got a best actor award in Cannes), great music, a sentimental plot line, a love story, very good direction, excellent photography, and even a cute, intelligent dog! Yet, it moved me not! What is worse, my wife was as dried eyed as a Tuareg in the Sahara.
As we left the theater we had this conversation:
Me: So, how did you like the film?
My wife: Oh, it was OK. Entertaining but a bit sentimental. (This from a woman who will burst into tears at the sight of a limping dog.)
Me: (Surprised) Well, yes I found it entertaining too but strangely lacking in real emotion. Although I did feel sorry for the dog who seems to have had to carry the whole picture on its miniscule legs.
My wife: Yes, he was very cute and so smart.
Me: That proves the old adage attributed to W. C. Fields, "Never work with dogs or children." They steal the show.
My wife: Yes, but I find the movie a bit too, uh, sweet.
Me: Wow! You finding a movie too sweet is like Martin Scorsese saying he finds a scene a bit too violent.
My wife: What does that mean?
Me: I don't know but I am sure it means something.
I think that the problem with this and most present day movies is that actors have forgotten or have not learned how to evoke true emotion, not only in the public but in themselves. I can't recall what actor it was who said that when he needed to cry in a scene, he always remembered his mother dying! Well, that is a bit much but "chacun son métier".
In "The Artist", a young actress criticizes the older, silent movie actors for grimacing and gesturing too much in order to convey emotion. Well, that might be but at least they knew their "métier". Some of the present day actors have the emotional range of a telephone post. It they are killing someone or making love, they put on the same face: that is, stiff and dull.
Humphrey Bogart's face could cycle through ten emotions (convincingly) in a twenty second scene. Just download "The Petrified Forrest" and you'll see what I mean.
The other day I had the displeasure of seeing something about Alexander the Great, as portrayed by one of these present day wonders; that was an insult to history, to Alexander, to movie making, and even to old-fashioned costume dramas. Worse was that stupid "adaptation" of the Iliad called "Troy".
I wish Achilles was still around. He'd take his sword to the lot of them.
I guess it is the privilege, when reaching a certain age, of older folk to consider the things of yesteryear better than those of the present day. But, I can't really reconcile myself to thinking that only because I am older I do not understand that putting a shark into a tank of formaldehyde is great art, or that clothes that have tears and look like old rags are beautiful fashions, or that a mannequin dressed like the Pope and which has a rock on top of it is a great sculpture, or that having every car on our block painted the same gray color is a step forward in car design. And I just can't convince myself that second rate actors like that Brad Pitt who John Huston would have doubts about casting him as a shoeshine boy in one of his movies, is anywhere near in acting ability of say James Cagney in "White Heat".
No, if movies such as "The Artist" want to make me cry, they have to have something more than just a gimmick and a cute dog saving his master. Although I do have to admit that "Troy" made me cry but for a different reason.
